Vengeance
by morganaforever
Summary: She's taken everyone he's loved from him. Now there's only her and him left in her twisted game. He has her chained in his dungeon, and he will have his vengeance. He has a lifetime to inflict all her pain after all. Dark!Arthur. Violence. May expand later on depending on response. Please review.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning for violence.**

* * *

He watched with twisted pleasure as they tethered her to the dungeon floor, hand and foot bound in chains, rendering her completely and utterly helpless. The sorceress's head hung, her curtain of midnight black hair matted and tangled. She was still unconscious from the blow to her head but she wouldn't be for long.

Morgana came round not long after her detainment and raised her head. As soon as she realised she was captured, her eyes widened in fear. The darkness engulfed her and she was struck by flashbacks of being in the Sarrum's vile grasp. Only this time she was alone. She struggled desperately against the cold iron manacles. Yet she did not cry out in her panic; refusing to show weakness until the very end.

"Morgana," his voice was emotionless.

The woman jumped in fright before quickly composing herself. She was determined to pretend that her panic hadn't happened. She'd thought she was alone.

"Arthur," she spat "I suppose this is your doing."

"Why?" he asked the question which had a thousand meanings and even more answers.

"Is this how you welcome your dear sister, Arthur?" she laughed, coldly.

"I'm in no mood for your games."

"Well, you should not have brought me here if you didn't wish to listen to me. Or better still, why not just leave me alone!"

"WHY?"

His voice scared her; he was so angry. But she was Morgana, rightful queen of Camelot and the Last High Priestess. She'd learned to hide her fear, she'd had to, or else everyone would take advantage of her.

"Why what?" she asked, tilting her head to the side to mock him further.

"Everything. Everyone. You murdered my wife, trapped my best friend in a cave, slaughtered my knights, starved my population, tried to kill me…" roared Arthur.

"Yes, Arthur, I'm well aware of it. I just shan't bore myself to tears by trying to get it into your thick skull."

"What did we ever do to you?"

"You don't have the right to say that to me. None of you do!"

"All my friends are dead and yet you still live and breathe!"

"That is because I fight for my survival, brother. Your precious Gwen was sprouting nonsense about love, the love she abandoned me for, and your precious Merlin was a coward, leaving me alone when he could have helped me!" said Morgana, icily "You know what, I'm glad they're dead. As I watched the blood drain from their bodies, heard their screams, I laughed. I left them alone to die slowly and painfully because that's all you ever did for me."

The witch doubled over as his fist collided with her gut. She grunted and coughed up the traces of blood, spitting them at her attacker. He'd actually hit her. Never had she expected him to be so cold towards her. She'd finally broken him and so she smiled even though she was far from victorious.

"You took everyone from me!" His eyes were darkening with anger.

"And you me! But you were weak. I kept fighting while you gave up and cried! That is why I'll always win!" She provoked him. There was nothing left for her in this world anymore. If she riled him enough, perhaps he would run her through then and there. She couldn't be kept in the darkness, not again.

Silence engulfed them and Morgana lowered her head once more, exhausted and the will to fight slowly leaving her. What was the point now, anyway? What had ever been the point?

The fact that Arthur had stayed silent after all of that made her wary and she lifted her eyes from the straw. No. He wouldn't. Not that. She was his _sister_. Even after everything, he wouldn't force himself on her. He wasn't _that_ evil. But as his belt slipped from the loops of his trousers, he looked at her with such dark, menacing eyes, a cruel smile twisting his lips and Morgana had no idea what he was going to do. For the first time, she was afraid of him. And for the first time, she was having difficulty hiding her fear.

"Arthur…" she trailed off. What was she meant to say? After everything she'd just said, she'd provoked him in the worst way imaginable.

It hit her with such intense force that her head crashed backwards off the stone wall and she saw stars momentarily. She could not recover before the leather snapped and whistled again, her cheek burning with its touch. It rained down on her over and over again and she bit her lip hard to stop herself from screaming. Only whimpers escaped her tightly sealed lips. Moisture gathered in her eyes and try as she might, the tears soon started to trickle down her cheeks, silent.

Then, suddenly it stopped and in a moment of courage, she looked up at her brother, her body tingling and throbbing. He was panting from the exertion, looking above her. She wanted to say something, something to make him regret it, something to show him she wasn't a coward. But her mouth was dry at the betrayal. Even though she had betrayed him first.

"How did you kill her?" he asked, detached.

"What?" she was confused now at why he wished to know, but it couldn't mean anything good for her.

When she refused to respond, he brought the belt down on her thigh and she winced in pain.

"I can hardly remember," said Morgana. Of course she remembered but she was Morgana, and she was not beaten by a mere belt. She'd survived worse.

"My father would never tolerate your behaviour." His anger was increasing again and something snapped in her. He'd hit her, Arthur Pendragon had dared to hit _her_.

"Uther was many things but at least he wasn't weak!"

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he yanked her up, the chains prohibiting the movement, and twisted hard. Once more she winced but not more. Her lack of reaction enraged him further.

"You're going to regret that, sister. I swear on my mother's grave, I'll make you regret _everything _you've ever done to me_._"

Releasing her to send her sprawling to the ground, he grabbed the belt again and began his relentless onslaught once more, each stroke more brutal than the last. She clutched the straw desperately, to try and pull herself together, to try and stay strong. She strained against her chains, drawing blood, as she tried to protect her head. Her attempt to draw her knees to her chest to make herself a smaller target was useless too. The chains were too short and too taunt to offer any aid.

"ARTHUR!" she screamed his name, pushing herself into the corner and pressing her face to the wall.

His response was the bring the belt crashing over her now exposed back before she turned to face him again, staring at him with watery eyes, trying to make him feel guilty. But he stared at her with empty eyes. He was a man who'd lost everything, most at her hand.

"Please!" she screamed again.

"Is this what Gwen said when you drove the knife through her?" questioned Arthur "ANSWER ME!"

"Yes."

"Did you stop?"

"No."

"And did she deserve it? Did my sweet wife ever deserve your cruelty?"

"Yes." It was the wrong answer. And she knew it at soon as it slipped from her lips.

"No, she didn't. But by god do you. You deserve so much more than this."

"I was fighting for my survival!"

"You said I was weak, Morgana. Is this weak?"

"No…"

"Who is the weak one now, sister? SAY IT!"

"You may think you're stronger, brother, but you beat me while I am tied down and without a weapon. You are a coward!"

"As a child, you never knew when to stop and admit defeat."  
"And does our childhood not matter to you? Our love? Our friendship?"

"YOU destroyed that."

"That's debatable, but I would never do this to you."

"Someone has to make you pay for your crimes!"

"Then execute me, burn me!"

"Death is too easy after everything you've done."

And so it began again. This time, Morgana clenched her jaw and fought the tears and the cries of pain until she managed to endure each blow with a bitten back scream. The effort was draining and she wished it would all just end. How much longer would she stay conscious?

"On your feet, Morgana."

Deciding that she needed the respite, she tried to get to her feet, carefully manouvering the chains. As soon as she was half-standing, her legs buckled from the pain and she only just managed to stay standing by clutching the rough surface of the wall.

"This can all be over, Morgana, if you just co-operate and answer my questions."

"I will never co-operate with a tyrant!"

When he discarded the belt, she thought he might have decided to stop. Her hopes were dashed however when he removed a dagger from his belt. He pressed her into the wall, knife to her throat.

"No mortal blade can kill me," she said, defiantly.

"Oh, I know that. But it can inflict pain."

"You will never hear me scream!"

With his strength and her weakness, he flipped her over so her stomach was pressing against the wall. She fought back, of course she did, but he didn't seem to care. He lifted her dress up to expose her pale back and set to work with his knife, carving deep. After all, he had no worry about killing her.

She tried so hard, oh so very hard. But the pain was overwhelming and her kicking back had no effect. Morgana screamed loudly as the tears fell from her eyes again. This was no normal knife, it had alcohol on it, she knew and it stung like hell. And so she broke her vow and screamed again. Her screams seemed to fuel him as he carved the letters deeper and rougher – Witch is a red blood scrawl.

Summoning her magic, she remembered that Emrys had taken it from her, stole her weapon. She wished now she had it more than ever. She'd never felt so vulnerable.

"Are you ready to answer?" he asked, malice lacing his voice.

The priestess sunk to the floor, exhausted and in agony. She didn't say anything. She'd pushed him over the edge once and for all.

"Just kill me!" she said, her shout weak.

"No!"

"How long are you going to keep this up? Until I'm begging for mercy?"

"Until you pay for every single life you ever took."

"Guinevere wouldn't do this!" She was trying to play on his weakness, hoping and praying.

"But you killed her. And she's not here now!"

"I'm sorry but you'll be waiting a long time, more than the life we have left, until I regret it."

"I have no-one left. I have a lifetime."

With that, he grabbed his dagger and brought the hilt down on her temple to knock her out.

"See you in the morning, sweet sister," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Reviews would mean a lot to me :) Also, if anyone has any ideas for future chapters, please let me know because I am totally stuck. Thanks and enjoy!**

**(Just for the record, this is not a redemption fic, this is about Morgana finally pushing Arthur too far and him losing himself to darkness...)**

**Warning for violence. **

* * *

When he saw her the next morning, he almost did a double take. She was resting against the wall, eyes open, ever wary of danger although she was powerless to retaliate. Her skin was marred with varying degrees of bruises and blood was splattered from where he'd hit most. Yet, somehow, she was not cowering before him. She seemed more defiant than ever before. And despite all the hatred he felt towards her, he admired her bravery.

"Come to gloat, brother dear," she said, her lips curving upwards in mirth.

"I see that our… session yesterday has not prompted a change of heart," he responded, not answering her taunts for what could be the first time in his life.

"You know my answer, Arthur. Never."

Beneath her cool exterior, she was terrified; of him, of what he could do, of his limits, of his goal… She'd recovered from the initial shock quickly enough and decided that there was no escaping for her. She would die here, for sure. The thought didn't bother her too much… Although pain flooded through her, she wasn't too bothered about that either, yet. Sarrum had put her through worse, so much worse. At least she didn't need to protect anyone this time…

"What do you hope to achieve by this?" she asked, just to break the silence.

"Your suffering," he responded, an evil glint in his eyes that she'd seen in Uther's many times before.

"Because persecuting my kind isn't enough. Me being terrified for my life and watching my people burn while I was relatively safe. That was never suffering."

"Magic corrupted you, Morgana."

"And power corrupted you."

He backhanded her on her already heavily bruised cheek and she winced before the smile returned, as if it had never left.

"How dare you, Morgana? I'm doing what I have to do."

"Oh, please, Arthur, do you take me for a fool?"

"Yes, sister or you would know when to give in."

"Afraid of losing are we? It must hurt your pride _so_ much to actually have someone defy you. I'll bet Gwen was a simpering little bitch with nothing better to do than please you." The king hit her again, transferring all of his weight into the slap. Her head snapped to the side and cracked off the wall sickeningly, her cheek swelling instantly and blood dripping from the fresh gash in her head. How dare she talk about his wife in that way; just because she was kind and sweet and loyal and all the things Morgana could never be? Tears sprang to her eyes as her cheek roared, but somehow she blinked them all away and returned her steely gaze to her tormentor.

"If you ever, EVER talk about her like that again, I swear I'll…"

"You'll what? You'll kill me, lock me up, torture me? Go on, Arthur Pendragon, do your worst, I _dare_ you! Let's see how much of Uther's son you really are!"

"Shut up, Morgana! I am warning you."

"Come on, hit me again. HIT ME AGAIN! Or are you too much of a coward? Even Guinevere, your poor little loyal lapdog, wasn't satisfied with you. Lancelot, his name was, wasn't it? How many more, Arthur? How many more did she invite into _your_ bed?"

That done it. He flew off the handle, totally and completely. He pommeled her with his fists, blind to her sporadic cries as the rage consumed him. The truth hurt and he wanted to make her hurt, just for her to stop dragging up the cruel past. She had pressed herself against the wall and just waited for it to end, helpless to do anything else. A small part of her was happy that she'd managed to enrage him, it was so easy, but the other part of her, the more sensible part, cursed herself for the fresh wave of pain. Arthur ceased the blows and she breathed out again, wincing at the sharp pain in her ribs. No doubt some were cracked. She wheezed, trying to recover from the attack.

"You do not speak of her that way!" he threatened.

"I speak the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth," she quipped. Something propelled her to get the upper hand, just for the satisfaction of it after everything else was lost.

His steel-capped boot collided with her leg and instinctively she tried to kick out, cursing him when she was unable to because of those damned restraints.

"Not so powerful now, my lady," he said, mockingly.

"Go to hell," she spat back.

"You first," he hissed, dangerously.

"I would have thought you wanted to join Gwen there, keep her company as you scream for your sins."  
"And why would I leave if I can hear you scream for your sins instead?"

"So much like our father, brother. What happened to make you so full of hate?"

"You did!"

"Still, you've completed your life's purpose. I'm sure daddy would be very proud of you, torturing a helpless victim." She said it all with a very small smile. A girl had to have some entertainment, did she not?

"I tire of this, Morgana. When will you learn?"

Hope blossomed in her. Had she finally wore him down enough for him to just kill her? And then he looked upon her with amusement and smirked, as she had done so often.

"There are plenty of guards who would be honoured to continue my work here, people more immune to your annoyance."

Arthur watched, pleased, as she seemed to break her resolve a little. At his threat, fear knotted in her stomach. Despite his cold callousness towards her, she knew, deep down, that he had limits he would never cross. She knew in her heart that he wasn't as heartless as he was acting and that if she was truly desperate, he would relent. But with the guards, they were even more unpredictable than him and would doubtless enjoy nothing more than hearing her scream and cry and break at their hand. Although it was Arthur's purpose too, he somehow was not as intimidating. Perhaps because she could manipulate him more easily. So, she looked down to the ground to give him no reason to make good of his threat. She harboured no desire to be subjected to more than she was already.

"You're scared of my guards," he ridiculed her.

"I fear no-one least of all those bloody oafs," she retorted, snapping her head up, refusing to stay silent with his taunt.

"Then you won't have any objections if I invite my good friend Rob in…" he toyed with her.

Morgana held back her biting response, determined to avoid confrontation with him. While she wanted to escape the next step, she would be damned before she ever admitted to being afraid of them. And she wasn't truly anyway. The thought of what they could do to her while she was so helpless scared her as did the fact that she was close to being in agonising pain. She'd only held out thus far using the control techniques her sister had shared with her. Memories of those two long years haunted her. She was sure that rape was not off limits to Camelot's guards and that was something she just couldn't handle.

"Well, you still refuse to answer any of my questions… Perhaps Rob might be able to loosen your tongue for me…" said Arthur "And I could really do with a hot meal. I'm starving!"

The High Priestess ignored him for the most part but her stomach thought otherwise. She was desperately hungry after not eating properly for several days due to the fact that she couldn't hunt or cook nearly as well without her magic to aid her. Her mouth was dry and her lips cracked, too. She would kill for some water at least.

"Getting another man to do your job for you, Arthur? Too weak to see it through to the end, are we?" she taunted as he rose from his kneeling position.

"Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I am too weak. But Rob was always one of my father's finest. I heard he once tore a man apart with his bare hands." He was trying to scare her and was doing a damn good job of it.

"You would leave me in the hands of someone like that. Your own sister!" She was all too aware of how frail and terrified her voice sounded and if they weren't already doing it to her, she would have kicked herself for her weakness.

"Are you feeling remorseful yet?" he asked her.

"No." Her defiance came back with a vengeance.

"Then I shall see you later, sister. Don't have too much fun without me." He walked out of the door, his dark laugh remaining for a few seconds.

As soon as he left, she struggled pathetically against her bonds. But this wasn't even rope, there was no-one left and there was no-one left to save her from this hell.

When Rob entered, she paled drastically at his sheer size and Arthur's suddenly seem quite so false anymore. He was walking towards her slowly, enjoying drawing it out, just as she'd predicted. A leering grin spread across his dirty face. Thankfully, he couldn't see her dreadful paleness in the barely there light. _Please, no,_ she prayed in her mind. She didn't know if she could handle any more, especially from him.

"Keep away from me!" she demanded, surprising herself by the strength and conviction in her voice.

She'd been lucky with Arthur, she realised all too late. Rob struck her hard across the face for her insolence, splitting her lip and causing yet more blood to gather. What had her wretched mouth got her into now? Her and her stupid, suddenly vengeful brother. He'd just had to decide to grow a spine at the moment when she was at her weakest. It wasn't even as if she'd attack Camelot in months nor had she any plans to do so. She was considering just leaving and starting in some far off village where her reputation was unknown. But, oh no, he had to find and capture her, locking her in Camelot's dungeons, the last place on earth where she wanted to be.

All her thoughts were discarded by another blow followed by another and so on. It was a constant stream of pain, blurred together so much that Morgana had no idea which area of her body was being brutalised before he struck her elsewhere. She screwed her eyes shut and willed herself not to cry, prayed that she did not lose her dignity too. While she was reluctant to cry for Arthur, she would rather drown in her own blood than appear weak in front of this barbarian.

But it hurt. It hurt so much…


	3. Chapter 3

"Arthur, to what do I owe this pleasure," drawled Morgana, propping herself up with difficulty.

"I thought you may be hungry…" said Arthur, slightly more in touch with reality than he had been before.

Attempting to keep the relief out of her expression, she shrugged nonchalantly. He couldn't know how desperate she actually was.

"Rob informed me that you were very weak. And where's the fun in someone giving up before you've even begun?"

"How very chivalrous of you," she said, sarcasm lacing her tone.

"Where's the Morgana who used to fight back? You've grown so boring… not much of a challenge now." He was trying to provoke a reaction, much as she had tried to do with him. But he would not succeed.

"Maybe she doesn't want to play anymore."

"Pity… Maybe she won't be needing any food then…"

"I'll take it." She said it rather too quickly and he smirked at her, infuriating her. _No reaction_. _Don't give him the satisfaction_. The arrogant smirk still on his face, he walked over to her and handed her a plate of relatively fresh bread and a small round of cheese along with a pitcher of water.

"Thank you," she said, grudgingly. Perhaps if she was polite, he would lay off her for a while. She had no desire for more bruises.

"Ah, sister, all you had to do is ask," he taunted her.

Controlling herself, she broke off some bread and ate it slowly before giving up and practically shovelling it down her throat, finishing off with the water. Almost instantly, she felt her strength return to her.

"Do you think you could unchain me?" asked Morgana. Pride be damned. She had to at least try and escape instead of just being resigned to her fate.

"I warn you sister, do not make a fool out of me. Do not question my authority," retorted Arthur, anger peaking again.

"I assure you, _your majesty_, I only meant could I at least be able to walk for a few minutes." Morgana tried her best to sweet talk him. She wasn't going to stand for the physical torture any more, not again. At least he couldn't mentally torture her. She had no-one left that he could blackmail or taunt her with. In that aspect, she was glad. It was time to manipulate her dear brother.

"And why would I do that?" He was shocked at how polite she was being.

"Please, Arthur," she pleaded "Please, just for a few minutes."

"Are you admitting that I am superior?"

"Yes."

"Sorry, sister, I couldn't quite hear you."

"I am weaker than you, Arthur. You have won." She said it without hesitation, less he suspect trickery. They were only words and she would say anything he desired to get out of here.

"Such a disappointment. You used to be so much more of a challenge."

Bending her head in what he would take as submission, she hid her smirk well. She was close, oh so close.

"Please," she begged, sounding as pitiful as possible.

His resolve seemed to crumble and he slowly approached her, removing the key from his belt. Slowly, he unlocked her ankle shackles and then removed them, shocked by the grazes that were even worse that some of the bruises on her face and arms.

"You better not try anything, Morgana, or so help you," he threatened.

"I won't! I swear!" she responded, quickly.

Seeming to believe her performance, he removed her right wrist followed by her left. Instantly, her hand flew to her right one, massaging it and then cursing loudly as she hissed in pain. Exposed now, the pain pulsed from her wrists, crusted blood peeling away to reveal deep cuts.

The hand he extended to aid her was accepted and she moved to the furthest side, trying to get her strength back before her jail break. In truth, she hadn't expected the condition she'd found herself in but she couldn't postpone it. Arthur's kindness would only last so long, especially with her tongue. She'd been pacing the large cell slowly, checking out the door, trying not to draw any attention from Arthur who was sitting on the bench opposite where she'd been bound. _It's now or never_.

And so she ran, her body screaming in protest. She was through the door and had no idea which way to go, and hastily took the left turning. The guards… She'd forgotten about them. There was no way back now.

"You stupid bitch," Arthur shouted from not far behind her.

Oh god, what had she done? Now she was really in trouble. So she did the only thing she could and kept running, panting from the sudden effort, her legs burning. A sword! Stretching, she clasped it just as Arthur came thundering in her direction like a raging bull.

"Arthur…" she tried, knowing she stood no chance in a fight. Her only hope was that he would mortally wound her.

No words escaped him, he just came towards her and she tried to stop him with her stolen sword. But he knocked the blade from her grip and slammed her into the wall, one hand over her throat. She cried out in agony.

"Let me go, Arthur, please just let me go. Or kill me. Don't make me go back into the darkness," she pleaded, desperately, struggling under his grip.

"And just when I was starting to pity you."

"I'm sorry!" a tear trickled down her cheek, clearing the grime.

"I warned you what would happen if you tried anything!"

To prove his superiority, he brought her away from the wall and slammed her against it again, this time releasing her. She crumpled to the ground and hugged her knees to her chest, feeling like a small child. The tears were unstoppable now as her body shook. What the hell would he do now?

"Your tears will get you no-where Morgana."

"I'm your sister, Arthur. I never meant to hurt you. I never enjoyed it. Not like you are!"

"Don't think you can manipulate me."

"What, like Merlin manipulated you? A sorcerer right under your nose, lying to you for years," said Morgana.

"Don't you dare…" he ordered.

"Yet you never tortured him. I was always there for you Arthur and he and Gwen come and you abandon me, leaving me alone in the dark. I've been through hell while he just sat and lied to you, even telling you that magic was evil. HE BETRAYED HIS OWN KIND!"

"Enough!"

"Imagine that, the mighty king of Camelot, can't even tell when his friend's got magic. What would our father say?" Her taunting was back, the tears all cried out, stopped by her years of practicing.

"Because you were so good at figuring it out yourself!"

"Merlin poisoned me and threw me down the stairs! I already hated him, whether he was Emrys or not is irrelevant!"

"You were terrified of him!"

"The prophecies lie. He was supposed to be my destiny and my doom. Instead, it was YOU! My own brother!"

"You were your own doom! If you'd stopped burning and murdering then maybe you'd still be loved and maybe my friends would still be alive!"

"Spare me your lecture, Arthur. I really couldn't care less!"

"Yeah, well maybe you should!"

"Why should I? You're going to kill me anyway. I'd rather die in the knowledge that you'll keep living a lonely, miserable life! Just like you deserve!"

"And you wonder why I don't fall for your pleas and tears? You're a liar, Morgana, a cold-hearted bitch. Perhaps if you finally showed some remorse, I might just pity you. All I feel is hate!"

"Yeah, well it's the liars and the cold-hearted bitches that survive. And since when do you have problems with liars?" She laughed. "And maybe if you actually paid me some attention all those years ago, I might just have forgiven you. I hated you long before you ever knew, Arthur."

"You want me to let you go, Morgana? Do you?"

"Yes, Arthur. The time for fighting is over. We've both won and we've both lost. You can have Camelot. I really don't care anymore! I've lost my sister, my kind, Mordred, Aithusa, my magic…You might find it hard to believe but it's true; even High Priestesses get tired. All I want is to return to the Isle of the Blessed and restore it before I die in peace."

"Fine, then. Go! Leave and never return!"

"WHAT?" Morgana looked at him in shock even as she pushed herself to her feet, still blocked by his arm.

"The time for fighting is over, Morgana. I care nothing for you." As he said it, still cold and emotionless, he moved so she could pass.

"After all that…" Now, she was just plain confused.

"If you want to go then go before I change my mind! I'll have the guards escort you straight to the gates."

Morgana didn't say a word as she moved away from him, no love left for her brother either, only a dull sense of emptiness where there once was hate.

"If you ever attack Camelot again, even one citizen, then you will wish you were never born. If you thought that was bad… So help you if you ever return."

"Goodbye, brother."

"You are no sister of mine, Morgana. You are no Pendragon."

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed! Please review!**


End file.
